“That seems… overzealous. Besides, I sent you a message last night.”
Her eyebrows came together in that way she had, a way that made her look angry and annoyed at the same time, as if you, not she, were responsible for her anger. She pulled out her palm computer and touched the screen a few times.
“Oh,” she said stiffly. “I haven’t checked my mail today.”
She was quiet as she scanned through what I had written.
“I sent it very early in the morning,” I said. “I was half asleep at the time. I’m not sure how much of what I wrote was memory or dream, or sleep-typing, maybe.”
I went along with the words—Melanie’s words—as they flowed easily from my mouth; I even added my own lighthearted laugh at the end. It was dishonest of me. Shameful behavior. But I would not let the Seeker know that I was weaker than my host.
For once, Melanie was not smug at having bested me. She was too relieved, too grateful that I had not, for my own petty reasons, given her away.
“Interesting,” the Seeker murmured. “Another one on the loose.” She shook her head. “Peace continues to elude us.” She did not seem dismayed by the idea of a fragile peace—rather, it seemed to please her.
I bit my lip hard. Melanie wanted so badly to make another denial, to claim the boy was just part of a dream. Don’t be stupid, I told her. That would be so obvious. It said much for the repellent nature of the Seeker that she could put Melanie and me on the same side of an argument.
I hate her. Melanie’s whisper was sharp, painful like a cut.
I know, I know. I wished I could deny that I felt… similarly. Hate was an unforgivable emotion. But the Seeker was… very difficult to like. Impossible.
The Seeker interrupted my internal conversation. “So, other than the new location to review, you have no more help for me on the road maps?”
I felt my body react to her critical tone. “I never said they were lines on a road map. That’s your assumption. And no, I have nothing else.”
She clicked her tongue quickly three times. “But you said they were directions.”
“That’s what I think they are. I’m not getting anything more.”
“Why not? Haven’t you subdued the human yet?” She laughed loudly. Laughing at me.
I turned my back to her and concentrated on calming myself. I tried to pretend that she wasn’t there. That I was all alone in my austere kitchen, staring out the window into the little patch of night sky, at the three bright stars I could see through it.
Well, as alone as I ever was.
While I stared at the tiny points of light in the blackness, the lines that I’d seen over and over again—in my dreams and in my broken memories, cropping up at strange, unrelated moments—flashed through my head.
The first: a slow, rough curve, then a sharp turn north, another sharp turn back the other way, twisting back to the north for a longer stretch, and then the abrupt southern decline that flattened out into another shallow curve.
The second: a ragged zigzag, four tight switchbacks, the fifth point strangely blunt, like it was broken…
The third: a smooth wave, interrupted by a sudden spur that swung a thin, long finger out to the north and back.
Incomprehensible, seemingly meaningless. But I knew this was important to Melanie. From the very beginning I’d known that. She protected this secret more fiercely than any other, next to the boy, her brother. I’d had no idea of his existence before the dream last night. I wondered what it was that had broken her. Maybe as she grew louder in my head, she would lose more of her secrets to me.
Maybe she would slip up, and I would see what these strange lines meant. I knew they meant something. That they led somewhere.
And at that moment, with the echo of the Seeker’s laugh still hanging in the air, I suddenly realized why they were so important.
They led back to Jared, of course. Back to both of them, Jared and Jamie. Where else? What other location could possibly hold any meaning for her? Only now I saw that it was not back, because none of them had ever followed these lines before. Lines that had been as much of a mystery to her as they were to me, until…
The wall was slow to block me. She was distracted, paying more attention to the Seeker than I was. She fluttered in my head at a sound behind me, and that was the first I was aware of the Seeker’s approach.
The Seeker sighed. “I expected more of you. Your track record seemed so promising.”
“It’s a pity you weren’t free for the assignment yourself. I’m sure if you’d had to deal with a resistant host, it would have been child’s play.” I didn’t turn to look at her. My voice stayed level.
She sniffed. “The early waves were challenging enough even without a resistant host.”
“Yes. I’ve experienced a few settlings myself.”
The Seeker snorted. “Were the See Weeds very difficult to tame? Did they flee?”
I kept my voice calm. “We had no trouble in the South Pole. Of course, the North was another matter. It was badly mishandled. We lost the entire forest.” The sadness of that time echoed behind my words. A thousand sentient beings, closing their eyes forever rather than accept us. They’d curled their leaves from the suns and starved.
Good for them, Melanie whispered. There was no venom attached to the thought, only approval as she saluted the tragedy in my memory.
It was such a waste. I let the agony of the knowledge, the feel of the dying thoughts that had racked us with our sister forest’s pain, wash through my head.
It was death either way.
The Seeker spoke, and I tried to concentrate on just one conversation.
“Yes.” Her voice was uncomfortable. “That was poorly executed.”
“You can never be too careful when it comes to doling out power. Some aren’t as careful as they should be.”
She didn’t answer, and I heard her move a few steps back. Everyone knew that the misstep behind the mass suicide belonged to the Seekers, who, because the See Weeds couldn’t flee, had underestimated their ability to escape. They’d proceeded recklessly, beginning the first settlement before we had adequate numbers in place for a full-scale assimilation. By the time they realized what the See Weeds were capable of, were willing to do, it was too late. The next shipment of hibernating souls was too far away, and before they’d arrived, the northern forest was lost.
I faced the Seeker now, curious to judge the impact of my words. She was impassive, staring at the white nothingness of the bare wall across the room.
“I’m sorry I can’t help you further.” I said the words firmly, trying to make the dismissal clear. I was ready to have my house to myself again. To ourselves, Melanie inserted spitefully. I sighed. She was so full of herself now. “You really shouldn’t have troubled yourself to come so far.”
“It’s the job,” the Seeker said, shrugging. “You’re my only assignment. Until I find the rest of them, I may as well stick close to you and hope I get lucky.”
CHAPTER 7
Confronted
Yes, Faces Sunward?” I asked, grateful to the raised hand for interrupting my lecture. I did not feel as comfortable behind the lectern as I usually did. My biggest strength, my only real credential—for my host body had had little in the way of a formal education, on the run since her early adolescence—was the personal experience I usually taught from. This was the first world’s history I’d presented this semester for which I had no memories to draw upon. I was sure my students were suffering the difference.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but…” The white-haired man paused, struggling to word his question. “I’m not sure I understand. The Fire-Tasters actually… ingest the smoke from burning the Walking Flowers? Like food?” He tried to suppress the horror in his tone. It was not a soul’s place to judge another soul. But I was not surprised, given his background on the Planet of the Flowers, at his strong reaction to the fate of a similar life-form on another world.
It was always amazing to me how some souls buried themselves in the affairs of whichever world they inhabited and ignored the rest of the universe. But, to be fair, perhaps Faces Sunward had been in hibernation when Fire World became notorious.
“Yes, they receive essential nutrients from this smoke. And therein lies the fundamental dilemma and the controversy of Fire World—and the reason the planet has not been closed, though there has certainly been adequate time to populate it fully. There is also a high relocation percentage.
“When Fire World was discovered, it was at first thought that the dominant species, the Fire-Tasters, were the only intelligent life-forms present. The Fire-Tasters did not consider the Walking Flowers to be their equals—a cultural prejudice—so it was a while, even after the first wave of settling, before the souls realized they were murdering intelligent creatures. Since then, Fire World scientists have focused their efforts on finding a replacement for the dietary needs of the Fire-Tasters. Spiders are being transported there to help, but the planets are hundreds of light-years apart. When this obstacle is overcome, as it will be soon, I’m sure, there is hope that the Walking Flowers might also be assimilated. In the meantime, much of the brutality has been removed from the equation. The, ah, burning-alive portion, of course, and other aspects as well.”